


The Adan

by foxdeer



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Barduil - Freeform, Daddy Issues, F/M, Falling In Love, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Secret Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 10:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxdeer/pseuds/foxdeer
Summary: In which Prince Thranduil rebels against plans for an arranged marriage with a human in the woods.Slight AU as Bard is young during Thranduil’s youth.





	The Adan

The sun was setting on another warm day in the Greenwood – the twentieth day in a row that the kingdom had the pleasure of enduring the rich summer heatwave. The elves had taken the opportunity to enjoy the weather whilst they could, for autumn was just around the corner, and they did not know when they would get another chance to feast until a late hour, sip copious amounts of the finest Dorwinion, and wander underneath the beautiful boughs of their green trees before they would turn a vivid red. All had rejoiced at such a fine end to their summer, frolicking in the many pools and smaller rivers that flowed throughout their forest, and away from the enchanted river that led to the realms of men.

Thranduil, the Prince of Greenwood, had not spent his summer in quite the same way. At first, roughly a month prior to the twentieth day of sunshine, the Prince had been in a foul mood. No wonderful weather would sway his melancholy and sheer anger at the situation he was in. And just what had caused such a mood? It had happened one day, the Prince had been called to the throne room of his father, and in his opinion, he had been thoroughly humiliated.

“I must ask you to make an important decision for the future of the Greenwood,” his father had informed him with such a stern voice that Thranduil felt the weight of such a request.

The magnificent King Oropher sat on his ornate wooden throne, his back straight and his silver geometric crown bold upon his grey-haired head. Thranduil had assumed that such an important decision would likely involve warriors, trade agreements, alliances… all sorts of things that could offer him an opportunity to prove that he was capable of the responsibilities that his father currently denied him of. He had not been prepared for what would come next.

“What is it, Father?” Thranduil had asked, trying to hide his blatant curiosity and excitement about what he may now be responsible for. “How can I be of assistance?”

“It is time that we showed that we are committed to the Greenwood and her people,” the King had spoken, his dark eyes boring holes into his son. “A month from now, I will present to you a selection of the finest elleths that this kingdom has to offer. Naturally, I have already narrowed them down to only the best, but I have left the final decision to you. You will choose one to wed, and from there we should hopefully secure a further heir to this throne.”

For a while, Thranduil had stood with his mouth agape in shock. He was not to be trusted with trade agreements or military strategies, but with which elleth would make a suitable mother to his child. The Prince felt a shudder run down his back, as though someone had dropped an ice cube inside his cream tunic. This had not been what he had expected at all.

“But… I will not love her,” Thranduil had countered, his voice soft from the shock of his father’s request.

The King waved his hand, as though dismissing Thranduil’s opinion on his heart. “Love is for children, Thranduil. You will grow to love her in time, I am certain.”

Defiant, Thranduil shook his head, his silver-white hair reflecting the light of his father’s throne room. “You may present them, but I will not choose. I have no plans to wed without falling in love first!”

Known for his short temper, the King rose from his throne in anger. He ranted for a while about how Thranduil was insolent, selfish and childish – that he had given his son everything, including a life of royalty, and yet he could not even be committed enough to his kingdom to marry one of it’s elleths. A few of the guards in the room began to shift awkwardly in their stead as the Prince was thoroughly scolded by the King. Yet, it did not matter what insults the King would throw at his son. Thranduil was as stubborn as his sire - if not more so – and he continued to shake his head in silent protest.

“You will choose a wife a month from now, and if you do not, I will choose one on your behalf!” King Oropher shouted, his deep voice echoing throughout the palace. “Get out of my sight, you selfish boy!”

Once he had regained his composure, Thranduil had exited the throne room and entered his terrible mood. For the time that followed, he had tried his best to annoy and rebel against his father in any way possible. He had spent the first few days being a general nuisance - hiding his father’s beloved crown, causing a ruckus at the dead of night, refusing to do things when asked – all of those sorts of things. But King Oropher was well-versed in the terrible moods of his son, and he ignored them as best he could.

So, as expected, Thranduil upped his game. He left the palace with no guard, skilfully sneaking past them and wandering into the forest until late at night. He met their esteemed guest, King Amdir, with a lacklustre greeting that hinted at boredom, and on the evening of dinner with the noble, Thranduil had worn his most inappropriate clothing for the occasion. Now he had his father’s attention, and he felt a perverse form of joy at seeing the angry rise of his father. He had received an ear-bashing for his terrible, shameful behaviour.

But, the ultimate betrayal had presented itself only a week or so into Thranduil’s rebellion. It was a couple of days into the long heatwave spell, and Thranduil had successfully managed to sneak past the guards of the city, heading out into the glorious forest that he was now a Prince of. He had journeyed for some time, heading nowhere in particular with a backpack of provisions, until he found a small pool that had formed not too far from the banks of the enchanted river. It was hidden from view almost completely from the rocky shoreline of the larger river, and as no elves were loudly bathing nearby, Thranduil was certain it would be the perfect place to escape the impending doom of meeting his future wife. (Here, Thranduil was still adamant that he would not be choosing and that a wife would have to be forced upon him.)

Thranduil had been startled by his he sound of heavy footsteps on the rocks of the riverbank, and he had sat up in small pool, worried that the thing that was causing such a noise was an orc. Quickly, he threw on his breeches, grabbing his bow and arrows, and creeping silently towards the foliage that had hidden him from the view of the river. 

Except, when Thranduil pushed back the bushes slightly, he was not met with an orc but a human who was softly swearing in the Common Tongue. The Adan was different – intriguing – not the same as every other human that he had seen visiting his father for trade agreements. The human was tall for a man, muscular, with tanned skin and brunette hair that fell messily onto his shoulders. He was struggling with his boat, which appeared to have gotten stranded upon the rocks.

And then, the idea struck Thranduil like a lightning bolt. King Oropher hated humans. He distrusted them greatly, and felt that they were lesser beings than the elves. Imagine, the Prince thought, his father’s horror at discovering that his only son had lost his virginity to such a human… imagine if he had found out that his son had not only shared in this passion for the first time with a human, but if he had also been deflowered by him…

Thranduil was no wallflower. He knew that he was rather attractive with his unusual pale blue eyes and immaculate silver-white hair. Admittedly, he had never taken a lover, as his father had never allowed for it. But given that he was in the mood for rebellion and unhappy about the prospect of being bonded to an elleth he did not love or find attractive, this all was heavily influencing his decision. As quickly as he could, Thranduil had put on his cream tunic, delighting in the way his damp skin caused the fabric to go somewhat see-through in some areas. Confidently, he strode out from behind the bushes.

“Do you require some help?”

The Adan had turned with surprising speed, grabbing his own bow and arrow and pointing it directly at Thranduil. However, at seeing who he was pointing his bow at, he lowered his weapon immediately. Thranduil could see up close that this human was even more appealing than from afar. His face was soft and friendly, although shocked at the elf’s sudden appearance. His eyes were a warm hazel, and there was a dark stubble growing upon his chin. 

“Apologies,” The human said. His voice was melodic and lilting, unlike the harsh sounds Thranduil was accustomed to for men. “If you are able to assist, I’d appreciate it.”

“Certainly,” Thranduil grinned, beginning to push the boat from the rocks with an impressive strength. He was happy to note that the man was slow in his actions to help Thranduil, and the Prince secretly hoped it was because he was too busy staring at the creature that had emerged from the forest. Surely he did not meet elves every day?

Within a few pushes, the pair had dislodged the boat and it bobbed gently by the shore. The man turned to face Thranduil, who casually kept a hand on his boat in order to prevent his escape. He smiled politely, a small pink blush from exertion on his cheeks.

“Thank you… uhh?” He said, searching for a name.

“Thranduil,” he answered, noticing that a small leaf was caught on the human’s shoulder. Boldly, Thranduil walked forward, reaching to gently remove the leaf from the shoulder of the man, watching as he gulped awkwardly. “What is your name, lovely human?”

“Bard,” he croaked out, his eyes flickering from Thranduil’s eyes, to his lips, to the hand that lingered by his shoulder. 

“Well Bard, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Luckily, Thranduil knew that men struggled to fight their baser instincts when it came to sexual attraction. They may have thought that elves were savage, but really the men were far more animalistic in their willingness to give in to such instincts. The Prince was confident that Bard was interested in him. He had observed the way Bard’s hazel eyes did everything they could to resist looking at the flesh through Thranduil’s wet tunic.

“It is a warm day today, Bard,” Thranduil had told him. “There is a small pool behind the bushes there, where the water is not enchanted. Would you care to join me?”

At first, Thranduil had thought that Bard could not believe his luck. Elves did not often proposition men, and it was unlikely that any humans could brag that they had made love to an elf. To his delight, Bard had taken him up on the offer, and after some further flirting, with both of their naked bodies relishing in the cool water, Thranduil felt it was time to make his move. He had never seduced anyone before, but given that Bard was already struggling to remain polite and look away from Thranduil’s bare chest, he felt a confidence he had not expected for his first time.

Moving closer to Bard within the water, Thranduil came to within a few inches of his prey, reaching to move some hair from Bard’s face. Gently, he ran his fingers over the strange stubble on the man’s chin, enjoying the rough sensation under his fingertips. It was exotic, different. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss… or have against his skin… Their eyes met. The atmosphere was thick between them – even the cool summer breeze was not able to cool the two of them down.

Bard moved first, capturing Thranduil’s lips in a quick but passionate movement. Their kiss was slow and deep, and Thranduil could feel the callouses on Bard’s hands as they grabbed at his hips under the water and pulled them together. At first, Thranduil had thought he would only endure this as a way to get back at his father, but after a while he found he was thoroughly enjoying himself and lost within the small slice of Middle Earth that they had carved out for themselves. Bard was a gentle but forceful lover. He took control with no prompting, guiding them both to the shallows of the pool, and leaning back to allow Thranduil to straddle him. The pair barely left each other’s kiss.

That evening, Thranduil had lost his virginity but it had not at all been as he had expected. Bard was attentive to his every need, taking care to ensure that he felt alright with every increasing act that they did together. Thranduil had definitely not expected to part ways with the human, heading back to the palace slightly sore from making love, with no intention of telling his father about Bard at all. Yet, try as he might, he could not keep the man from his thoughts. Every dream involved Bard – wet or not. 

So, for every day that had since followed that fateful day with Bard, he had returned to the pool in the hopes that the human would be there. Each day, at some point, Bard would show up with a large smile and a desire to repeat the actions of the evening before.

After a week, Thranduil feared he may be falling in love. He sat on the rocky edge of the riverbank, watching as Bard shot arrows into the water as a way of catching some fish for their dinner. Thranduil loved the way he looked in the sunlight – his beautiful face, frowning in concentration, euphoric when he finally caught something. Cheering, he turned to Thranduil with his catch held aloft. Thranduil felt his heart warm in his chest. It was a feeling he was worried about and comforted by in equal measure.

“Finally!” Bard exclaimed, walking across the rocks to the elf. “I thought I’d never catch the bastard!”

“I had faith you’d get one eventually,” Thranduil smiled back, as Bard took a seat beside him. 

“Really?”

Thranduil nodded. He was met with a large toothy grin from the human, who leant forward to land a small peck on Thranduil’s cheek in thanks. 

They had carried on for some time in their little world as the summer heatwave dragged on. Thranduil could not count the amount of times they made love, but each time felt heavier in his heart when he thought of the moment he would have to say goodbye to Bard, and make the unfortunate decision on which elleth to marry. On the fourteenth day, when they sat watching the sunset high in the boughs of an oak tree, Bard knew that something was wrong.

“You are changed this evening,” he told him, clutching at Thranduil’s pale, delicate hand. “Something concerns you.”

Thranduil had debated telling him the truth for some time, but he had also enjoyed the feeling of being far away from the inevitable decision and marriage that awaited him. He was confused by how he felt about Bard. Part of him wished to stay in this moment forever – their little world – where he was not a Prince and their races did not matter, only what their hearts desired. Yet he could not see a way where he did not tell Bard the truth.

“I am to be married soon,” Thranduil told him, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. He was sure that Bard would leave him now. “It is arranged, and I have not met her. I’m not sure I want to marry her…”

Bard remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity. He simply looked out upon the orange sunset, lost in his thoughts. 

“I had always thought I would marry for love,” Thranduil continued, trying not to let his unhappiness overwhelm him. He did not think it appropriate to cry in front of Bard.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bard told him, though his voice sounded strained. “I had thought-“

Thranduil squeezed his hand softly, turning himself effortlessly on the branch so that they were facing each other. His movement had finally meant that Bard was no longer looking at the sunset, but directly at Thranduil. His voice held steady, but his eyes showed his disappointment.

“I am sorry,” Thranduil told him, leaning forward to place a small kiss upon Bard’s stubbly cheek. “This last few weeks have changed me. I have never fallen in love before-“

“Love?” Bard repeated, his eyes wide.

Thranduil started. His heart felt as though it had stopped. “You do not feel the same?”

“No - no, you misunderstand me – I had thought I was becoming too infatuated too quickly. I cannot hardly believe that you would feel even a little bit the same… I thought elves did everything slowly… ”

In sheer relief, Thranduil chuckled at Bard and planted a large, sloppy kiss on the human’s lips. They both broke into a smile. The Prince had to admit that nothing in their relationship had been slow. After all, they had made love on the first day of knowing one another. That evening, knowing that Bard had felt the same, the pair had spent the nighttime out in the forest. Thranduil knew he would be in trouble for it when he returned to the palace in the morning, but his time with Bard was limited and he wanted to cram as many moments in the short time that he could.

For although he knew he loved Bard, Thranduil was not unaware that his father and king would win out in the end. He had spent many moments thinking that he could run away with Bard, but regardless of if he did, his father would find him and he could not imagine what would become of Bard if King Oropher ever found out the truth. He still returned to the palace, and he was repeatedly reminded that his decision was imminent. There would be no avoiding it.

On the eighteenth day, the pair made a decision together. Though Thranduil would not run away from his responsibilities to marry an elleth, and after he had explained that their relationship would never be allowed in the Greenwood, they had come to the conclusion that they would meet every month at the very pool they first made love in to rekindle their passion. This, Thranduil felt, he could compromise over, as it would always serve as a silent rebellion against his father and his oppressive feelings towards Thranduil and his heart.

The twentieth day dawned and passed too speedily for both the man and the elf. As usual they made love, but Thranduil could not keep the bitterness from his heart. He wished dearly that he had chosen to run away with Bard, even though his best judgement knew it was futile. They were together as usual, sat on the rocks of the riverbank, watching as the water rushed by. The sun was beginning to set, and Thranduil was aware that soon he would have to return to make the decision. At this point, he had now decided that he would prefer to make the choice, as his father would think only of political alliance and not of which elleth would best suit his son.

Bard wrapped an arm around Thranduil’s shoulder, and the elf leant his head in the crook of the human’s neck. They both knew that they had to depart, but even so, they took another minute, and then another, together. Never in Thranduil’s life had the prospect of waiting a month seemed like such an unreasonably long amount of time to wait.

“I will miss you,” Bard whispered, running his fingers through the soft, silken hair of the Prince.

“One more minute,” Thranduil replied, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. He wanted to make a mental note of everything related to Bard. His smell, the warmth of his body, the softness of his hands even though they were calloused. He wanted to remember how it felt to be held so carefully in those hands, but also how they had grabbed him forcibly in other situations. 

“As much as I want to, we cannot stall this forever,” Bard told him. “It will make it worse when you have to face it, and you said yourself that you did not want your father to make such an important decision for you.”

Thranduil nodded, removing himself from Bard’s grip. The pair stood up, embracing each other for the final time in a month. They held on for longer than necessary, but Thranduil was grateful, for it allowed him to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. 

Bard pressed their foreheads together. Under his breath, he whispered: “I have never met one such as you, Thranduil,” he sighed. “I love you. I will wait for you here in a month’s time.”

“I love you too,” Thranduil replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I will see you soon.”

With only a quick kiss, Thranduil departed with just one backwards glance at Bard who waved to him in response. His walk back to the palace was long, and it felt as though his legs had turned to lead. Try as he might, Thranduil could not shake how downright miserable he felt at leaving Bard behind. The man had been the first being not to treat him any different for being royalty, although Bard had never been informed that Thranduil was the prince of this forest. Perhaps he would mention it when he next saw him in a month’s time. 

As expected, Thranduil had returned to his other life as the Prince of the Greenwood. He had been dressed in the finest robes, his hair styled to a beautiful shine, and presented to the selection of elleths his father had chosen for him. Naturally, he had questioned them all about their interests and hobbies, finding each as attractive as the next, but none made his heart race as Bard had. In the end, he had chosen the elleth he would marry. Perhaps his father would be right and their love would blossom over time, rather than the immediate lust-filled romance that he felt with the Adan.

A month later, Thranduil returned to the pool early in the morning with mounting anticipation. He feared for a time that Bard would not come, so he chose to relax in the water of the pool in an attempt to calm his frantic mind. The cool water worked to clear his mind of a month’s worth of wedding arrangements. His hair fanned out under the water, softly floating this way and that. 

The sound of those footsteps reached his ears, and Thranduil sat up in the pool. His hair fell heavy down his back as he emerged from the water. He knew those footsteps. With each one his heart rate increased. 

Through the bushes came Bard as though the time had hardly passed, his hazel eyes aflame with excitement and a soft grin upon his face.

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing Barduil! Let me know what you think! :)


End file.
